liminal spaces

prologue

Summer, 2004.

"We should start a band." Alex skimmed the backs of his fingers across Stevie's ribs, her new tattoo was just barely peeking out from under the hem of her top from the way she was sitting, her head tipped back and the pale column of her neck exposed. She handed the bowl back to him without looking, blowing out smoke, feeling warm and drowsy. She had barely registered what he had said.

"You're already in a band," Stevie replied eventually, letting her eyes fall shut as Alex took another puff.

"No, just you and me, I mean," Alex said, sitting back and leaning his head on the cushion to face her even though she had her eyes shut. "Or you should join, become a Monkey."

"I'll pass," Stevie said with a quiet huff of laughter, too comfortable for snark.

"You really should, though. Music, I mean. You're brilliant," Alex said. "You're like... 'endrix."

Stevie laughed at that, and Alex got a brief swooping feeling in his chest. "Thanks, Turner," She said, opening her eyes, slightly startled by how close he was when she turned her head to face him.

"I'm serious, love," Alex said. Intentionally or not, Alex had always had good puppy-dog eyes. Stevie figured it was the permanent deer-in-headlights expression he had, and his wide brown doe eyes.

He had turned to sit facing her, leaning his head against his hand, offering the still lit bowl back to her. Something about the way he was looking at her, the expression on his face, made Stevie suddenly conscious of how close they were sitting, of his leg brushing against hers. She shook her head at his offer, at the same time trying to clear her mind. She watched his hand as it came to rest between them on the sofa, still holding the bowl, the backs of his fingers brushing the side of her thigh.

Alex felt spacey as he watched her, his head heavy in his hand. He felt like he could feel the warmth radiating from her from how close they were sitting, and he didn't know why but he liked it. Stevie tucked her hands beneath her thighs, shuffling away slightly, when a thought floated back to Alex, completely oblivious to her sudden edginess.

"'Ave you ever tried shotgunnin'?" Alex asked, his face alight with the same boyish excitement he had worn when he had asked her 12-year-old self if she had ever gone down the Death Ramps on her bike, and when he had asked her weeks ago if she had ever smoked.

Stevie blinked, shaking her head slowly. Alex grinned, bringing the bowl up to his lips, nudging her leg and beckoning her towards him as he held the smoke in his mouth.

She leaned forward instinctively, frowning slightly at how foggy her head was and the warmth she could feel in her cheeks. Alex brought his hand to her jaw, feeling her skin heat up under the tips of his fingers. Stevie jumped but inhaled on his exhale, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin as he ran his other hand down her arm.

There was a beat as she exhaled the smoke, Alex holding her wrist and rubbing circles with his thumb over her pulse, where she felt like her skin was buzzing and her heart was thudding too slow and too loud in her chest. Then she looked at him, and he was grinning at her, and she loved his smile, and that was something she could focus on.